


really?

by bishounen_curious



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alcohol, Bad Jokes, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Romantic Gestures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-19
Updated: 2016-08-19
Packaged: 2018-08-09 19:32:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7814344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bishounen_curious/pseuds/bishounen_curious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I got kind of drunk and somehow bought a cart full of flowers. Want to do me a favor and take some off my hands?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	really?

**Author's Note:**

> originally for saso2016 but now i posted here so the masses could enjoy!!!!
> 
> yes, i know, no need to thank me ;)

from: kuroo  
19:08  
look outside your window

Kenma was very tempted to not do that. It was already dark and a school night: whatever Kuroo was angling for, it definitely was bad news.

But, unfortunately, Kenma wasn’t as callous as he wished he could be. Even with Kuroo, his best friend since forever, the same moron he could literally throw under the proverbial bus and feel no remorse about it, couldn’t actually throw him under a real bus. Or let him loiter outside in the dark street alone.

With a small groan, Kenma pulled himself out of his blanket caccoon, trudged to the window and peered out through his blinds.

Just barely, he could see the silhouette of the idiot in front of the gate of his house. Then, one of those lanky arms raised up and gave an obnoxious wave up

How Kenma wished he could throw him under the bus.

The blonde frowned the entire time it took him to leave his bedroom to the time it took to meet Kuroo outside. One of the blankets from his nest managed to tag along with him. 

“Oi.” Kuroo greeted, the whites of his teeth glimmering from the glow of the street lamps. “That was much quicker than I thought. Kudos to you”

Kenma ignored that comment, and replied, “What do you want? It’s cold.”

With a click of his tongue, Kuroo leaned over the gate, which remained dutifully closed. Kuroo must’ve enjoyed that, the barrier, the creativity of maneuvering around it, and he arched his arm out and tried to touch Kenma’s nose. “This isn’t a meaningless visit, my friend.”

“It better not be.”

“Wanna hear the reason?”

Kenma’s frown just deepened. He was in no mood to be playing these games. Especially when the temperature was dropping quickly as they spoke.

“Well,” Kuroo grinned, still relentless in trying to poke the blonde’s face, “I pulled a _me_.”

“You pulled a you.” Kenma repeated. Well, that wasn’t good. “Are you in trouble with the police?”

That ripped a giggle from the older boy’s throat. “I mean, if I was caught. But, no. My record’s still spotless.”

“Just tell me before I go back inside.”

“Okay, okay. Jeez, you’re so impatient.” Kuroo’s long fingers tapped against the metal of the gate, taking a moment before he spoke again. “I just wanna preface this and say that I did this for you.”

In no possible realm, dimension, time, or whatever would that make Kenma feel reassured.

“So.” Kuroo continued, with a slight waver in his smile. That made Kenma’s frown waver, too. A slight panic started to gurgle in his stomach. This was much farther from good than he’d thought. If Kuroo was nervous than just what the _hell_ did he do? “Me and Bokuto were hanging out the other day.”

_There was no way this was going to end well._

“And we were… y’know…”

“Being delinquents?” Kenma interjected.

A spark of surprise lit up in the older boy’s eyes for a moment before it disappeared, replaced by a small, soft grin and a crinkle of his eyes. “Yep, being delinquents. And drinking a ton of beer.”

“That goes without saying.” Kenma wrapped the blanket tighter around his shoulders.

“I just wanted to clarify.” Kuroo defended. “And to repeat, preface this. And try to give context to why I did what I did.”

Kenma couldn’t stop himself from groaning.

“Anyway,” Kuroo went on, a little more nervous than before, “we were drinking a lot of beer. And you know how the two of us are when we’re drunk. And, well, I got an idea.”

“An idea?”

“Yes, an idea.” Kuroo repeated, and took a breath. “And it was about you.”

A sinking feeling - no, something worse, like quicksand, like a sinkhole, like a blackhole appeared in Kenma’s core. It was warm, but unpleasantly so, and it began to grow, to swallow up his organs, his veins, and blood inside its terrifying, vengeful, heated void, all the way until Kenma felt like he was floating, felt nothing but numbness in his limbs and the ragged, harsh pulse of his heartbeat drying out his throat. _It was about you_. That was the last thing he wanted to hear. Especially when it was this cold. The nightly chill had already sapped the warmth out of his extremities, and with the added dread, the anxiety, well, Kenma’s core felt barren. Frigid. Dead.

The blanket wasn’t cutting it anymore.

Kuroo kept mumbling, nonsense words spilling from his lips, half syllables that kept being retracted, mistakes and second thoughts just diffusing from him into the air. They swirled around, directionless and lost until they found Kenma and latched onto his skin, seeping through his pores and making homes for themselves in his rattly bones. He wanted to tell Kuroo to stop, that this was _bothering_ him, his nervousness an minced words, but his own lips were sealed, locked and useless. All he could do was endure.

“And - so well, the thing is, I -“

_C’mon, c’mon, c’mon. Just hand me the death blow already. Tell me that you decided to hate me now. It’s hard not to have such negative thoughts, but I can’t stop them. It’s all true to me. Just say it: that you outgrew me. Resent me. Revealed all the secrets that I’ve revealed to you because you thought they were worthless and silly. Just let me know. Not knowing hurts so much more._

“- I well, I got kind of drunk, and well - somehow bought a cart full of… flowers.”

That was nowhere near what Kenma thought was going to come out of the other’s mouth. “What?”

Kuroo’s cheeks were red, so much so Kenma could tell in the dark. With a guilty, scared smile, he continued, “Want to do me a favor and take some off my hands?”

So many things happened at once. Kuroo’s left arm, which had been behind his back the whole time - Kenma hadn’t even noticed it - came out of hiding and delivered a bouquet of yellow carnations outward, over the gate and outstretched towards Kenma in offering. Kuroo coughed, flushed harder, pupils wide. Kenma took an instinctive step backwards, his brain firing a mile a minute. 

First of all, this weird. This was a present? Number two, why did Kenma feel like he’s heard this before? Number three, where was the crushing disappointment and the end of this friendship? Four, just… _why_?

Silence accompanied with the rustle of leaves kissed by wind filled his eardrums. The distinct sounds of cars beeping. The buzz of the heaters on other houses. Kuroo coughed again, and his smile faltered, his outstretched arm losing some integrity, and he pulled it back. “Do you… you don’t get the reference?”

Kenma just blinked.

“Fullmetal Alchemist? Roy Mustang?” Kuroo offered, his voice cracking. “I pay attention to all the anime we watch together, y’know.”

Oh. _Oh_. “I remember now…”

None of this made any sense. Why was Kuroo offering him flowers, quoting one of his favorite anime so late at night?

Kuroo exhaled, but none of the discomfort left his face. “So. Is that… a no?”

Kenma’s fingers fidgeted with his blanket. “…I don’t understand the question.”

Then, the flowers pulled back away, and Kuroo groaned, covering his face with the yellow blooms for a moment. The blonde could hear him mumbling incoherently under his breath, and Kenma let him freak out for a second. He deserved a little stress. For what he did to him, at least. He still didn’t even know what any of this was about, after all. Kuroo was just beating around the bush. 

When the moment passed, Kuroo sighed, and looked absolutely pathetic, offering the flowers again, with a stronger, more determined arm. With a glimmer of nothing else to lose in his eyes. “I’m asking you on a date, jackass.” 

Kenma’s brain fizzled out. But even so, his lips moved on their own. “And you used an anime quote for it?”

“I thought it’d be romantic! For you! You love that shit, and I love making you happy and -“ Kuroo stopped himself, tensing his muscles before sighing deeply. “I’m gonna stop now. Quit while I’m still holding a bit of dignity. I’m sorry. I just… I just thought you liked me like that.”

Aw, fuck. Now Kenma felt like an insecure, spiteful douche. Which was not a foreign feeling to him, but still. It wasn’t fun.

Still, his mouth wouldn’t move. How could he say _yes_? Tell Kuroo that, indeed, he did feel that way. Has felt that way for years. Share with him about how he’s watched him out of the corner of his eye when Kuroo wasn’t looking, pretends to sleep so he could watch his breath even out and his face slacken, steals glances at him changing in the locker room and trying not to blatantly stare. Because, oh no, _liking_ is such an understatement of a word. It’s more like an adoration, a quiet obsession, something more private and intimate than that. It’s probably love. But he can’t even explain himself. It doesn’t matter what Kenma thinks it is if he can’t even express those sentiments. Words fail him, and he feels like he’s failed them both.

But… action doesn’t. Kenma fixes his hold on his blanket and he snatches the flowers from the taller boy’s grasp, and brings them close to his heart. Maybe his own microscopic amounts of body heat will make the flowers feel warm. Apologize to them, let them know they’re accepted and cared for.

Kuroo looks like a fish. Just stares, at the flowers, at Kenma. He isn’t sure what the gesture means, clearly, because his expression keeps twitching between fear and joy.

“So?” Kuroo croaks. He’s holding himself back, frozen in limbo, his nerves eating him away. Even Kenma can see that - he knows this idiot far too well.

“Come inside.” Kenma grumbles finally, feeling his cheeks color. “We’ll talk upstairs.”

“Thank fucking God.” Kuroo bounces, looking relieved, so relieved, but masking it as hard as he can. “It’s so cold out here, I think my balls are gonna fall off.”

Kenma scrunched up his nose in disgust as he opened the gate for his friend. He starts towards the door, and Kuroo, wrapping an arm around his back, huddling close. Neither of them had to explicitly say it. They knew what each other meant. Except:

“Did you actually steal a cart of flowers when you were drunk?”

Kuroo snickers. “No. God no. Bokuto just convinced me to ask you out in the corniest way possible.”

“While you both were drunk?”

“Oh, definitely.” Kuroo nodded, holding the door open for Kenma. “The me getting drunk is the only true part of the story. I bought those flowers, even.”

“You’re the worst,” Kenma rolls his eyes, shuffling into the bright warmth of his house.

“That isn’t something you say to your new boyfriend.”

Kenma pauses, and gives Kuroo a look. The older one apparently was stunned by his own boldness, and he freezes, too. But Kenma smiles, a real one, and nods.

Kuroo sighs, for the umpteenth time, and beams.

**Author's Note:**

> bishounen-curious.tumblr.com


End file.
